


Rules For Standing Still

by PurpleMango



Series: Rules For Finding One's Self [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Aunt Natasha Romanov, Awesome May Parker (Spider-Man), Bisexual Natasha Romanov, Christmas, Government Agencies, Hiding, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Natasha Romanov Feels, Natasha Romanov Has Issues, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Precious Peter Parker, SHIELD sucks, Teenagers, Time Skips, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-24 12:51:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16175438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleMango/pseuds/PurpleMango
Summary: Natasha isn't running anymore.But she isn't moving either, just kind of... standing still.It's not hiding, not really, because technically she's still dead.Or at least, everyone thinks so...Right?(On hiatus for now)





	1. Breaking The Seal

Natasha ran a hand through her hair, the soft blonde hair already having grown out to her chin. 

There was a knock on the door to the small bathroom. “Tasha come on! May’s gonna kill us if we’re late!”

She smiled at her reflection, opening the door and messing up Peter’s hair as she strolled past him. “Okay Spider-boy. Hold onto your horses.”

Peter seemed to vibrate the whole drive and Natasha couldn’t seem to stop smiling as the kid talked about how fun this was going to be.  _ (Let it be known that even though all her years of being under-cover, Black Widow had  _ never  _ gone to a high school science fair.) _

She slid out of the car and Peter was instantly grabbing both May and her, rushing them into the building. May just smiled at Natasha over Peter’s head.

The woman at the front desk, however, didn’t smile. “Name?”

“Peter Parker.”

“And these are your parents?” The woman gave May and Natasha a wary gaze.

Natasha smiled politely. “I’m Peter’s  _ other  _ Aunt, Natalie Parker.”

The woman nodded, accepting that answer and letting them pass.

Peter was talking about science as soon as they were inside the huge gymnasium. 

Natasha half-listened, watching the kids around them present their projects.

However, she jolted with surprise when familiar voice called out: “Kid! You couldn’t invite your sponsor?”

Whispers flew around the room, and she stepped back just as May angled herself in between Natasha and Tony Stark. 

Peter was too caught up in the moment to even realize what was wrong with this whole thing. “Mr. Stark! I didn’t think- I mean I didn’t want to bother you!”

Natasha knew she should have stayed home.

Tony Stark, in a red suit with black accents shrugged, eyes hidden behind his trademark sunglasses. “I just came from- I was paying my respects to an old friend...” Tony’s smile wavered a little before it was back full force. “Anyway! I figured I wasn’t doing anything very productive, so I came to see your project!”

“I- I’m glad you’re here Mr. Stark!”

Natasha froze, then ran the date in her mind. 

It had been exactly a year.

Her funeral had been a year ago, today.

 

Natasha remembered going, face hidden beneath a veil as she stood next to May on the top of the hill, watching over the procession of people in black. 

She remembered the way that Pietro and Wanda clung to one another, refusing to talk to the others, the way that the sky had boomed as Thor laid a yellow rose down on the empty casket.

She remembered that Clint and Tony were both drunk and making complete asses of themselves to anyone who didn’t know they were hurting, and how both Barnes and Steve were trying so desperately to get as drunk as the other two. 

She remembered Bruce, Sam, and Vision guiding the others away, helping them into the parade of black cars.

How Pepper cried and clung to Maria Hill, who looked strangely guilty.

She remembered Fury being the last person to leave, nodding once in her direction, a subtle goodbye as he left.

How Natasha had gone down to the casket, looked over the small trinkets that her teammates had left, before letting herself be guided by May back to the car.

 

Natasha was broken from her thoughts by Tony’s loud voice. 

“So who’s the other woman in your life you keep ranting about? I would love to meet her!” Tony started forward, hand out to introduce himself, but May and Peter both moved to block him.

“I don’t think-”  “Aunt Natalie's really shy!” Both May and Peter spoke at once.

Natasha made the mistake of looking at Tony. 

He seemed to freeze in his tracks, before his whole body was tense muscle, a media smile returning to his lips, but his eyes cold. “What a coincidence. I had a friend named Natalie once.”

“I- Sorry.” She brushed a hand over Peter’s shoulder in reassurance as she passed him. “Excuse me.”

Then she was weaving for the door.

 

When she got outside, a hand caught her arm, and she had to restrain the urge to punch Tony. “Let go of me.”

“What, so you can go fake your death again?” Tony’s voice was strained.

She looked back, but didn’t directly meet his eyes, fixing them on his black bow tie. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? SORRY?” Tony sounded outraged, and his grip tightened. “I thought you were DEAD! I woke up to my home  _ destroyed _ , head pounding, and find out that we practically  _ killed you _ . Then just as the whole team is getting the news that you made it through surgery, Fury fucking shows up and tells us you want to-” Tony pauses and draws in a shaky breath. “The whole team mourned. We’re  _ still  _ mourning. And now to find out you- you just  _ left us _ ?”

Natasha shakes her head. “I don’t expect you to understand, but if you want me to stay alive, you have to leave me dead.” She finally looked him in the eyes, face dead serious. “Tell anyone i’m alive and you kill me.”

They stare at each other for a long moment, before Tony’s hand drops to his side.

She reaches up, wanting to brush a hand over his cheek but stops when he flinches away from her touch. Lowering it, she feels her stomach twist. “Take care of yourself Mr. Stark. A lot of people care about you.”

Then Natasha is walking away with long, sure steps.


	2. Walking Away From Home

Natasha’s out getting fresh produce for the dinner she was planning, wandering through a farmer’s market when she sees him.

Just a glimpse, but time seems to slow.

His crystal blue eyes widened, lips mouthing her name silently, before she can duck behind a vendor. She makes her way into a crowd, and soon she’s watching him look around wildly from behind a group of people. Steve runs a shaky hand through his hair and lets his shoulders slump, walking off.

Letting her heartbeat fade, she carefully takes the produce she’d already gotten and makes sure to take the long way home.

 

That night she has worse nightmares than she’d had in a while and ends up sitting on a park bench and watching the night sky.

Someone sits down next to her, and she glances over at Sam briefly, before looking back up at the sky. “How’d you find me?”

“You come here when you need to think. Thought you might be kind of rattled after seeing Steve. He said you ran.”

Natasha purses her lips, but doesn’t speak.

“We all missed you. All hoped you were alive… It hurts a little to think that you were only blocks away and you never contacted us though.”

“Couldn’t.”

Sam turns to her at that, eyes full of so much sadness. “Why Natasha? Why couldn’t you come home or let us know what’s going on?”

She shrugged, standing up and stretching. “How is everyone?”

Sam lets her change the subject because he’s a better friend than she deserves right now. “Clint wants to kill you. Most of the others are devastated. The twins refuse to get their hopes up about you, but won’t talk to any of us anyway. Tony’s drinking again... Natasha, you can’t just expect us to be fine without you.”

“You will be.” Natasha’s sure of this. Had been from the second she made her choice. “Eventually.”

“So that’s it?” Sam’s face smooths out, but she can tell he’s upset. More than she’s ever seen him before. “You’re not coming back, are you?”

“Who is there to come back? Natasha Romanoff is dead.”

Sam’s eyes close for a second, and she sees a million things pass through his brain, but he doesn’t say a single one of them. Instead he stands, eyes both sad and impossibly angry. “I’ll tell the others that.”

“I hope you sleep alright… Goodnight Falcon.”

And for the second time, she walks away from her old family without looking back.

 

A few days later she’s humming some song she’d heard Peter singing in the shower when the doorbell rings. Turning down the heat of the stove, she goes to answer the door, and when she sees Bruce standing in the door her smile drops.

He blinks for a second, like seeing her had thrown him completely off his game. “I- uh- I’m- Is Peter here?”

She nods, waves him in and closes the door. “Pete! You have a guest!” Peter clambers down the stairs, almost pitching forward, and she throws an arm out. 

“I’m good! It’s fine!” Peter catches his balance.

She rolls her eyes, muttering under her breath. “You know the rule about running.”

“ _ Yeah mom _ .” Peter looks at Bruce, who’s staring at them, before wincing and giving Natasha apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry. I forgot he was coming. I should have answered the door.”

Messing up the boy’s hair, she starts back to the kitchen. “Don’t worry about it kiddo. Your dinner might be a little burnt though!”

“Still better than anything May makes!”

She’s chuckling as she goes back to cooking.

 

After dinner, when Peter’s doing his homework on the sofa, she sips her red wine and levels May with a steady gaze. “I should go.”

May raises an eyebrow from where she’s nursing her own glass of white wine. “Because they know you’re alive?” 

Natasha nods. 

“I thought you weren’t running anymore?”

She knows her glare is chillier than needed. “I’m not.”

May snorts into her glass, voice sarcastic. “Sure looks like it from here.”

“Maybe from over the top of _ a wine glass _ , but I’m not running.”

May looks at her for a long second. “If you believed that you wouldn’t be so afraid of going outside, going to Peter’s school, going to get _groceries_ for god's sake.”

“I’m not-”

“Natasha.” And that’s May’s parental scorn for lying. “Maybe you’re not running, but you’re still avoiding.”

Natasha doesn’t say anything and May takes that as an admission of defeat.

“If Peter was to say he saw you as a real aunt, that he cared about you, what would your first thought be?”

~~ Leave. Get out of here before I hurt him.  ~~  Natasha pushes those thoughts aside. “I don’t think i’m a good influence for him.”

May smiles sadly, and Natasha knows that she saw that whole thought process somehow. 

The woman stands, patting Natasha’s shoulder as she passes. “Get some sleep Natasha.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, feel free to suggest ideas for fics and/or things you want to see happen   
> <3 Kisses! <3


	3. Christmas 'Cheer'

It’s almost Christmas before her nightmares can be ignored and Natasha can wake up without feeling like she has to throw up after she sees one of her teammates kill her in her dreams.

She pulls on a warm jacket, smiles at Peter nervously, and tries to focus on him as they walk through the streets of New York just like she’d done almost two years ago when she’d limped out of SHIELD. 

Her hair is long, swaying in it’s ponytail as she walks and a pair of fake glasses are sitting on her nose. 

Peter talks a mile a minute, about his friends and school, about Christmas, about how excited he was that she’d come with him today. Then two other teenagers are approaching them, and Peter greets them with the same bouncing enthusiasm. Then they turn to her.

The shorter boy, Ned if she remembers correctly, blinks and then his eyes are widening. “Oh my god! You’re her! You’re Black W-”

The girl next to him covers his mouth with her hand, holding out her other one. “Call me MJ.”

“Natalie.” Natasha shakes the girl’s hand, before looking at the shorter boy, and upon seeing him start to calm down holds out her hand to him. “Nice to meet you both. I've heard nothing but funny stories.”

“What are you doing here?” Ned’s voice is a bad imitation of a whisper. “You’re supposed to be dead!”

“Actually, today i’m supposed to be watching you three.” Natasha smiles softly. “Can’t have you getting into trouble, can we?... Plus bad guys seem to like Christmas a lot for some reason. Peter might need backup if something happens.” 

The two boys grin at each other, while MJ rolls her eyes. “Oh no. Now they’re going to  _ look  _ for trouble.” 

Natasha decided she liked the girl.

 

Natasha was using the card that was from the profit made off her trademarked name and more than happy to buy the teens anything they wanted. She herself got a few things, sneaking them away into the bags where she knew Peter and May wouldn’t look. 

She was in the Lego store when she saw it.

A Hawkeye action figure.

She remembered Clint complaining forever about how he wanted Hawkeye merchandise, and on a whim, bought the toy. 

Then when a pair of stunning silver heels reminded her of Pepper, she found herself buying them too. 

Same with the intricate hand carved wooden chess set for Bruce. 

A cookbook for Vision, a fire opal ring for Wanda, a pair of tennis shoes with wings on the side for Pietro. 

The softest blanket she’d ever felt for Sam, a new professional sketchbook for Steve, and a Spiderman t-shirt for Tony. 

And when a set of knives caught her eye, obsidian blades glinting under the display case light, she got them for Barnes.

Peter obviously knew what she was doing, but didn’t say a word about it until they were sitting in their shared room, wrapping the presents.

 

“That won’t help you know. That’ll hurt more if you keep avoiding them after you give them those.”

Natasha looked down at her small pile of carefully wrapped presents. “I don’t think i’m  _ going _ to give them these.”

Peter eyed her.

“I don’t know why I got them in the first place.” She shook her head, carefully putting them away in the back of the closet. “It was a silly whim.”

She strained a smile, and left to go get dinner ready.

 

Their Christmas was the night before, on Christmas Eve. Small, with only Ned, MJ, Peter, May, and her. 

Everyone traded presents and she and May spent the night both slightly tipsy on eggnog, laughing at the teens.

When morning rolled around and May went to work, Peter giving her a hug as he left for the Tower, Natasha curled up in her small bed and pretended she wasn’t alone in the apartment. After she got tired of that, she went to the closet, opening it with the intent to look at her untouched gifts and sulk in her loneliness.

But the closet was empty of gifts.

She pulled up her phone, pressed Peter’s contact. The phone rang once. “Hey there Auntie! What’s up?”

Natasha ground her teeth together. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“What? I can’t hear you over the sound of the Avengers opening your gifts!”

“ _ Peter _ !”

Peter chuckled. “You should come to the tower! Come on! You have to-”

The phone jostled and she heard inaudible voices, before someone else spoke up. “Nat?”

Natasha cringed slightly. “Barton.”

Clint sounded that familiar mix of angry and sad. “Natasha, please. Please come back.”

“I- I can't. I’m sorry.” She hung up before guilt ate away at her, set the phone down and made her way back to her bed.

 

The doorbell rang an hour or so later, and Natasha pulled herself up, groaning lowly under her breath. Throwing open the door, she blinked. Pepper smiled at her from her doorway. “Come on Natasha. You owe me.”

“For what?”

“A number of things. But mainly for making me ruin my favorite dress with mascara at your funeral.” 

Frowning once, Natasha relented. “Let me get something else on.”

Pepper scoffed, grabbing her arm. “I think they’d be happy to see you at all, pajamas or not. Come on.” 

Natasha barely got to locking the door before she was being pulled away.

Pepper gestured to the black sports car with red trim, before pressing her hand to the door. It opened and she slid in. The door on Natasha’s side opened and she carefully sat down.

_ “Hello Miss. Romanoff. Good to see you are alive and well.” _

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Tony's idea?”

“He outdid himself. I made him get out of bed... and he built a car.” Pepper grinned. “Stark Industries was very pleased. I however, was just glad he stopped drinking long enough to use the welder properly.”

Natasha frowned down at her hands. “Sorry.”

_ “Boss may blame you, but in actuality, your presence at the science fair made him stop drinking. He’s been completely sober for seven months.” _

Natasha looked at Pepper, who nodded. “Won’t even touch alcohol… Though his reasoning is because he can’t kill you if his hands are shaky.”

“Hmmm.” Natasha hummed noncommittally.

“Bruce has gotten better at talking to the Hulk, Clint’s seeing a therapist once a week, Wanda and Vision started dating, Steve is helping out at the VA when he can, and Barnes is connecting with the princess of Wakanda. She’s breaking his programming slowly.”

They pulled up in front of the tower.

Natasha looked out the tinted windows, at the throng of people, then back to Pepper. “Why are we out front?”

“I’m leaving you with this car. It’s untraceable. Worth a lot of money.” Pepper’s face hardened, and Natasha remembered why she’d made it a point never to get on the woman’s bad side. “You walk with me through that crowd, tell the world you’re alive and face whatever you are going through  _ with  _ the team, or… you drive away. You take all your belongings from the Parker’s house and you  _ disappear _ . For good. Like you should have done the first time.”

Natasha watched the woman get out.

Pepper turned back, eyes cold. “You’re right with what you told Sam. They’d be  _ fine  _ without you. So either beg for their forgiveness, or leave. And if you leave, you better  _ wish  you were dead _ .”

The door slammed shut and the clouds parted for Pepper Potts, because everyone knew not to mess with her. 

Natasha watched Pepper leave, before sliding behind the wheel. As she turned the car around, she saw Pepper standing at the base of the Tower, cheeks wet.

 

Peter watched from the windows as a black car pulled up. “That must be them!” Wanda and Pietro crowded next to him, the others staying a little ways away, but still watching. 

Pepper stepped out, looking like she was about to punch something and then after second, slammed the door, storming off.

“She’ll be here in a second. Probably just nervous.” Peter couldn’t stop his fingers drumming on his leg. 

_ Natasha had to. She had to. It was  them . Her old team. _

He felt Wanda sag from next to him. “She’s not going to.”  The team sighed as the car pulled off, going back to sitting around. Mr. Stark looked at the bar longingly.

Peter stared at where the car had been. “She- she told May she was done!” He hit the window, before turning, tears on his cheeks. “She said she was done with running!”

The whole group looked at him with a strange sense of pity. 

“That’s what she does kid.” Clint smiled at him, lips wobbling. “She says things.”

Peter wiped at his cheeks. “Not to me!” 

The group watched as he ran to the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's for writerwisegirl, who lovingly keeps bugging me about the story (I actually don't mind and it makes my day to get feedback).  
> Here you go darling.  
> <3   
> (Sorry. It gets worse before it gets better.)


	4. Asking For Forgiveness

Natasha stared at herself in the small mirror. 

She guessed it was as good as she was going to get.

 

It was the day after Christmas, the crowd at the base of the Avengers tower larger than ever with the new year's only days away. 

A black sports car pulled up, and the crowd turned, wondering who was in the high-tech car they'd seen Pepper Potts emerge from the other day.

The door opened, and Natasha stepped out, long red hair shining in the sun. Her black jeans were plain, but the large red hourglass on the black tank top caught eyes and she smirked as the crowd seemed to pulse with whispers. 

Taking off her shades, she smiled at the reporters inching towards her. “Good day to die hard, am I right?”

The questions fired off, but when she held up her hands, the crowd fell silent.

She leaned back against the side of the car. “I’m here to tell you a story, so make sure you’re rolling, because it’ll make your week.”

The cameras started up, everyone fixed on her. 

“I was a little girl once. Hard to believe, i know, but it’s true.” A few chuckles from the reporters. “I was taken from my family, made into a weapon. And that’s not something I’ll get into, but to put it simply, they made me a tool. They took every part of me out of my brain, put simple wiring in. Kill. Run. Hide.”

The crowd seemed to lean forward. 

“I’ve been running since I got out. Running from enemies to missions. Running from attachment. And after this last… incident with the Avengers, I was told I was going to be decommissioned.”  She smiled shakily at the camera.  “When a spy is no longer of use, they get decommissioned, silenced. I was sent on a mission that I knew I wouldn’t come back from before. And I only got out because my partner… Well, he went in and got me out. And then here they were, telling me that this time I  _ would  _ die.”

The crowd exploded into talking, and when they quieted down, she shook her head. 

“So I faked my death. I thought it would be easier. Keep my friends- my family- safe… But I guess I realized that there’s safety in numbers, so i’m going to sit right there, on those steps until they tell me that it’s okay, that they forgive me, and that they want me on the team.”

“And what if they don’t?”

She looked at the reported that had shouted out the question. “Well, let’s just say i’m ready to accept my fate.”

Natasha started forward, and the crowd parted. 

She made her way to the steps, sitting down. “Now, what can I do for you all? I get the feeling I’ll be here for a while.”

 

Only thirty minutes had passed when Tony came out of the building, smiling at the cameras as he held out a hand to her. “Natasha.”

She looked up. “Stark. Do you forgive me?”

The man grinned, both to her, then to the cameras. “Sure I do! We all want you back. Why didn’t you just come up?”

Natasha shook her head, looking back to the teenagers she was playing cards with. “Go fish.” They looked at her and she nodded. “Go on. Pick up a card Michael.”

The teen frowned. “You’re no fun!”

She laughed, turning to the girl on her left, a 10 year old with a big toothy smile. “Do you have a nine?”

“Go FISH!”

Natasha scowled teasingly, picking up a card. “Shucks man... I thought you had a nine.”

“Natasha.” Tony’s smile had faded. “Natasha come on. Get up.”

She glanced at him, shaking her head. “I know when you’re lying Stark. You don’t want me even five feet from you or your team. Go away. And tell Spider-man he’s welcome to play cards while you’re at it.”

Tony scowled, stalking off. 

Natasha shook her head at the kids. “What’s the number one rule?”

“NO CHEATING!” The kids cheered. 

She grinned. 

 

Natasha was teaching a makeshift yoga class to a (significantly) larger group of kids a few hours later, when Wanda and Pietro carefully made their way out of the tower. Pietro was instantly next to her, pulling her into a hug, and she squeezed him back. 

“Hey kiddo.”

Wanda approached slower, eyes wary. “You are not welcome in the tower yet. We wanted to see you though.”

Natasha nodded. “I guessed as much.” She held open her arms. “I’m really sorry Wanda. I didn’t-”

Wanda pulled her into a hug. “I know. I can feel it. You’re here, standing still.”

Natasha nodded. “I’m staying like that this time.”

Both twins smiled, and ended up joining her yoga class.

 

When the sun fell, the civilians had mostly left, just the news people blinking at her tiredly. 

She sighed. “Go home. I’m sure that nothing exciting will happen while you’re gone.” They all shook their heads. Natasha huffed. “At least take shifts. If you all stay up, you’ll be zombies tomorrow.”

Seeming to take her advice, some of the people shambled to their trucks. She smiled, leaning back.

 

Natasha must have fallen asleep, because she woke up panting, a camera man shaking her awake. She turned, gagging as she tried not to throw up on the Tower steps. 

Hands brushed back her hair.  “Shhhh. Hey Nat. You’re okay.” Warm hands rubbed her back, Sam smiling gently down at her. “Nightmare?” 

She breathed threw her racing heart, before looking at the man with a tired smile. “Wilson. What are you doing here?”

He jerked a thumb behind him. “Jogging.”

She looked behind him at- 

Steve was watching her with wary eyes, hands clenched by his side. She nodded, looking back to Sam. “Go. I get the feeling i’ll be here awhile anyway. You can come talk later.”

“Natasha if your nightmares are _this_ bad-”

Her voice was low. “Go Sam. He won’t wait much longer.”

Sam glanced at Steve, who indeed looked ready to bolt and nodded, standing. “I’ll be back. You  _ better  _ be here.”

Natasha watched him go, chuckling bitterly. “Where else would I go?”


	5. Making Progress

It was the middle of the second day and she was laying on the stairs basking in the sun when someone poked her. “Hey. Can’t you read the signs? No loitering.”

She cracked open an eyes to look at Spider-man, before closing it. “Rule number two. No poking the assassin.” Peter poked her again and she sat up, sighing. “Yes?”

“You have half the Avengers on your side, but the rest are debating only agreeing so they can kill you themselves.”

She snorted. “Children. They never can decide on anything. Tell them i’ll  _ let  _ them do it. That might sway them.”

“Tasha.” She could tell he was frowning, even though the mask. “Not funny.”

Natasha shrugged. “It’s true.”

“I’m not telling them that.”

She shrugged, waving at the cameras forward. “I’d like to get it out there that the Avengers are also allowed to kill me themselves if they want. That’s fine with me.” She looked at her watch. “Also, I’m tired of sitting here. They have 24 hours or I do it myself.” 

She pulled out her gun, and cocked it, before putting it back in her belt.

The white bug eyes on Peter’s mask widened. “You can’t-”

“Please don’t tell me what to do kid. You rather I do it now?”

Shaking his head, Peter got up. “Natasha… I don’t know that they’ll decide before-”

“I know." She looked up at him, eyes serious. "But I’m tired of waiting.”

Peter took one last long look at her, before webbing himself back to the top of the Tower.

 

Natasha was sitting in a circle with a bunch of news reporters. 

“Someone gave me a choice. Earn my way onto the team again, or leave everything and go back to being a ghost, killing people from the shadows… and well i’d rather die than go back to that life. So this is a way to get both. Either way it’s gonna end up with me dying and I've accepted that.”

The doors opened, and she looked up, meeting colorless eyes. “Hawkeye.”

The man marched up to her. “I’m here.” He held out his hand. 

Natasha handed him the gun. “Glad it’s you, partner.” 

He looked at it for a long moment.

“How do you want me?”

Clint blinked down at her. “Oh- Um- Knees. Execution style.”

Natasha smiled at the crowd, most of who had turned away, parents moving their kids away as fast as they could. 

She sunk to her knees, clasping her hands behind her back. “Guess it’s karmic irony, it being you.”

There was a pause, before the man sat down heavily in front of her, face drawn. “You’re serious…. No tricks, no ploy. You’re ready to… to be decommissioned?”

Natasha moved so she was sitting comfortably. “As i'll ever be.”

Clint gave her a long look, before standing up. “There’s still six hours left. I’ll figure something out.”

 

When the timer was at five hours, a crowd had gathered behind the press, not daring to get close but still yelling at her. Some of them were encouraging things, telling her she had so much to live for, or that she shouldn’t be held accountable for the Avenger’s mistakes…

But most of them were calling her weak. Yelling about how she was the city’s hero and therefore couldn't kill herself. 

How she had an obligation to the people.

Natasha just smiled at them politely, checking her watch every so often.

One man broke through the police barrier that had been erected, running at her. “Give me that gun!”

She calmly waited until he got close, then swiftly flipped him to the ground, placing her knee on his chest. “Why would I give you my gun? Is it yours?”

The man spit at her. “You’re a coward!”

“Get away from her.” 

They both looked back, seeing Barnes standing there, brown eyes narrowed. He was in his leather, guns strapped to his hips, black around his eyes. 

The man ran for cover as soon as she let him up.

Natasha looked the man over warily. “You here to decommission me?”

Those dark eyes fixated on her, lips curling into a sneer. “Pathetic. No, I’m here because Spider-Man asked a favor. He seems to think you need protection.” 

“Oh.” Natasha sat back down on the stairs, checking her watch. 

Three hours.

“Why are you doing this? The Black Widow I knew would never stop fighting.”

“I’m also guessing none of you watched the security tapes of the incident.” Natasha snorted. “Thought at least Tony would wonder what had happened.”

“We know what happened. You went insane and started attacking us! Steve said that SHIELD barely got to you before you went and killed him!”

The crowd’s yelling faded into the background. 

She felt a headache coming on.

“ _What_?”

“He had to fend you off! You gave Stark a concussion, fucked up my arm, electrocuted Clint and Sam, and shot Steve! We were going to forgive you, maybe get you some therapy, but then you went off and had to fake your death! So thinking that the team’s going to forgive-”

She held up a hand, ignoring Barnes and she pulled out her phone, calling the one person she knew could answer her questions. 

“Hello?”

Natasha growled, her voice dangerous. “What did you tell them MAria?”

“Natasha.” She heard Maria Hill pause, as if unsure how to answer that question. “You know the team is more important than you. They would have been burdened by guilt.”

Natasha scoffed. “You better hope SHIELD has some friends in the media, because I’ll  _ crucify you _ .”

She hung up, taking a deep breath. “FRIDAY?”

_ “Yes miss?” _

Natasha thanked every god she knew that Tony had given FRIDAY access to any device owned by the Avengers, and was equally glad she was still  _ on  _ the Avenger rosters. “Can you review the data from two years ago, the footage and tell me what’s wrong here?”

There was a pause.

_ “Miss Romanoff…” _ If there was a way for FRIDAY to sound regretful, this was it.  _ “I regret not looking into this. I should have reviewed the data.” _

“It’s alright FRI. SHIELD probably messed with you, so you’d skip over it.” Natasha glanced at Barnes, who looked suspicious. “Can you send those clips to our friends in the news networks?”

_ “I cannot go against my programming. I am not to hurt my creator in any way.” _

Natasha pursed her lips. “Maybe just a few clips without Tony… I’m sure that the beginning, the closet scene, and the ending would work. Give them a taste… And I’m sure you have a picture of the outcome. Throw that in too.”

FRIDAY sounded pleased with that decision, but still unsure.  _ “And are you sure about this Miss?” _

“As sure as i'll ever be.”

Then, all around the plaza, phones were lighting up, chimes and dings going off. 

Natasha looked down at her own phone, seeing it had gone to a youtube video.

A red-haired woman in a black suit, trying to talk down Steve and Clint, trying not to hurt her teammates while they attacked her. Blood on silver knives. A woman with red hair getting wheeled onto a jet, bloody, with her face wet with tears.

She looked up at Barnes, passing over her phone. “There. There’s your  _ forgiveness _ .”

Natasha laid back out on the steps, closing her eyes.

Barnes put the phone down next to her, storming inside the Tower, and she smiled.

Progress.


	6. The Truth

She’s half asleep when the crowd goes silent. 

Natasha blinks herself awake, sitting up. 

The crowd is watching something behind her, and she stands, turning to see the whole group is standing near the doors. 

Wanda, Pietro, and Peter are off to the side, looking more angry than guilty, unlike the rest of the group.

“Natasha.” It’s Bruce who steps forward. “We would all like to say our apologies. We should have known. There was too much blood to have been...”  A few people in the group paled.  “We never tested the blood. Assumed they came from the wounded... It was like we all just skimmed over the fact you were in surgery.”

She watches the group. Then her phone goes off.

The timer.

Stopping the timer, she frowned. “That’s 24 hours… So I have to ask. Are you going to do it or am I?” The whole group looks a bit sick, but before they can move, she has her gun out. “One choice. One of you or me?”

In a flash of silver, Pietro has the gun out of her hand. “Neither. You will not die today, Natasha Romanoff.”

She sighs, looks over the group. “So Barnes won’t wish he could shoot me? Tony wont make guns with the intent kill me? Clint won’t tell his therapist that he wishes I was dead? Steve wont imagine i’m the punching bag he’s beating up?... Because it sounds like that’s already happened.”

The whole group looks guilty, looking at the ground. 

Natasha just lifted her shirt, showing off the two fairly fresh scars on her abdomen. “I’ve been hurt enough by the Avengers. Now I think it’s my turn to ask…. I’m looking for a home. Do you think you can provide one?”

Clint spoke up. “Natasha, I think that if you wanted Stark to buy you a house and never see us again we’d be glad you asked. We want you here.” He took a small, hesitant step forward, palms facing her, an unreadable expression on his face like he was afraid she was going to refuse him. 

Natasha opened her arms invitingly, and he strode forward, wrapping her in a hug.  

“I’m glad you’re back.” Clint murmured into her shoulder. 

Natasha smiled, genuine this time. “Me too.”

 

She sat across from most of the group, Pietro and Wanda on either side of her, with Peter sitting at her feet.

“Explain.” Tony’s voice was still slightly more wary than friendly. 

Natasha sighed. “It started when I was out walking around to clear my head-” 

And she went on to explain what had happened, in the tower, only pausing when she got to the point where Hill had talked to her.

Peter put a hand on her leg, nodding. “They deserve to know.”

“Right…” Natasha swallowed the ball of fear in her throat. “Hill probably had orders from higher ups, but she- she came to me about retirement.”

The room seemed to be sucked of air and she looked down at where her hands balled up on her legs.

“Her main point was valid. After everything that happened, I couldn’t have looked any of you in the eyes without breaking down… but she gave me a choice. Return and pretend like nothing happened, not even talking to any of you, or... die.” Natasha took a deep breath. “I called in a favor, let myself disappear, and none of you can convince me that I didn’t do exactly what I needed to.”

“You just up and left! Just walked away! You could have called, told us you needed help!” Tony looked personally affronted.

“Could I have? Really?” Natasha dug her fingernails into her legs. “Just like the way you can’t breath when you see anything related to deep space?... I could have just come to the Tower and tired to tell you: 'hey I might need some help? But not from you, who i’m all still terrified of, but SHIELD, who’s blackmailing me  _ because  _ i’m so terrified of you?'”

“Okay. Okay that’s enough for today.” Peter stood up, prying her hands open. “Come on Nat. You can share my room.”

“She has a room!”

“And she  _ also  _ has nightmares!” Peter spun on the group, eyes narrowing on Clint. “She hasn’t slept more than three hours since that incident! And sometimes I would find her standing on the edge of the roof, only for her to turn and ask me if I really cared!”

Natasha tried to pull Peter away, but he wouldn’t move.

“You really messed up. You messed up, and she had to pay for it. It doesn’t take a genius to see how you all carefully avoided mentioning how ready your supposed ‘teammate’ was just this close- THIS CLOSE!- to putting a bullet  _ in her brain _ !” 

The room all shifted with an uncomfortable tension.

“That’s- Natasha wouldn’t actually do that…” Steve looked at her, eyebrows drawn.

Natasha grinned at Steve. “Of course not! No that was just-”

“Don’t lie.” Peter looked at her, eyes disappointed. “Tell them the truth if you want them to trust you. You know what happens when you lie to often.”

Natasha let her smile drop, looking from the twins to Peter, before looking Steve in the eyes. “I would have done it the day I could move enough to get to the roof, but Peter made me promise that I wouldn’t until I could look the Avengers in the eyes and not throw up.” The smile that cut through her lips this time was sarcastic. “Guess I can say I don’t really have much more to look forward to anymore.”

Then Peter was taking her hand and they walked away.

 

A soft knock on Peter’s door half-way through the night and Natasha looked up from the small nook on the windowsill where she’d been reading, before going to open the door.  “Barnes?”

The supersoldier shifted from foot to foot, before looking up. “Teach me how to do the internet-stuff.”

Natasha blinked. “Sorry?”

“The internet. On phones and computers and stuff. Teach me.”

“O-kay… Maybe in the morning?”

Barnes’ eyes were level. “Promise? Teach me everything you know? All of it? No matter how long it takes?”

Finally getting what the man was saying, Natasha smiled. “I Promise.”

The man turned.

“Barnes?”

Dark eyes looked back at her.

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really sure where i'm going from here...  
> Any ideas?


	7. Wiping Off the Slate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics quoted are from Nothing More - 'Pyre'  
> Great song, great band 10/10 recommend

Natasha was looking down on the city.

Lit up buildings gleaming in the night like a million diamonds and the wind caressed her face as she looked out over the city she loved, the city she always came back to.

It wasn’t cold, but when a strong breeze brushed past her, she shivered.

Her feet were dangling off the edge of the helipad, nothing but open air beneath her feet.

Natasha heard the door open, footsteps approaching quietly, but she didn’t turn. “To have people to whom we are deeply attached go to sleep and never wake up…”

“Natasha?” Tony’s voice was soft. “FRIDAY alerted me you were up here.”

“You feel that the world is a neurological trap into which you somehow got caught. You run from the maternity ward to the crematorium and that's it that's it... So if you're a smart kid you commit suicide.” Natasha effortlessly quoted off the song lyrics, kicking her foot and watching her heel fall into the wind.

“Nat-”

“I would die. Falling from this height.” She turned, smiling at Tony and standing. Still on the very edge, she spread open her arms. “You cannot confine yourself to what happens inside the skin…”

She closed her eyes.

Tony started forward. “Nat!”

Stepping forward, she sighed. “No, not tonight… It’s no fun if you catch me... Goodnight.”

Tony was left out on the helipad, staring at the spot where she’d been standing.

 

Peter had to return to school, and Natasha had taken that abstinence the only way she could: avoiding the others and not sleeping. It was bad enough that her nightmares were worse without someone to keep her sane, but the team would take one look at her and worry.

She was in the gym late at night when she knew everyone was asleep, when someone walked in, before pausing. “Oh. Sorry. I’ll just-”

“Come in Steve. And shut the door.”

Steve nodded, glancing at her and then back to his hands. He made his way to the punching bags opposite where she was hanging upside down from two aerial silk strands, something May had dropped off for her.

“What- what are you doing?”

Natasha glanced at him. “If I stay upside down long enough, eventually i’ll pass out. Or die. Whichever comes first…”

Steve dropped his water bottle, rushing over. “Get down! Natasha get down or i’ll pull you down!”

Sighing, she let herself slowly spin down until she was standing in front of him, face still red. “ _Fun leach.”_

“Are you insane? I’m interrupting you trying to kill yourself and now i’m- No. You know what? You’re going to spar with me until you get tired enough to sleep, because i’m not letting you walk away and go do _god_ knows what.” Steve waved his hand, starting over to the ring. “Come on.”

With a huff, she followed him and humored his idea.

 

Natasha woke up with scratchy clothing restricting her movement, and tried to move, but something heavy was weighing her down. She flailed, trying to get away from whatever it was that was restraining her.

“Hey! Hey, Nat, you’re okay! You’re okay!”

She blinked, finding she had fallen off the sofa in the common room, still wearing her tight workout clothes. The heavy weight on top of her had been a blanket, it’s edges tucked into the sofa. Well, that settled who had put her to sleep.

Sam and Bruce lingered outside of her vision.

“Natasha? Can you tell me why you broke our furniture trying to wake up?”

"I didn't-" Oh. The arm of the sofa was bent weirdly and she realized she’d kicked it so hard it broke. “It- I just- I don’t like sleeping in my clothes.” She picked herself up quickly. “I need a shower.”

 

And when Natasha came into the main room, feeling a little bit better in loose clothing, she found the team all waiting for her. Their food was mostly untouched, and she sat down in between the twins slowly. “If this is a test, then I call it now. Either come up with a better scenario or attack when ready.”

Clint clenched his jaw at her words.

Pietro hooked an arm around her and she found herself leaning into him despite all her efforts not to. “Eat. We are all worried.”

Slowly popping a grape into her mouth, she eyed the table. “And why is that?”

“I found you sitting on the edge of the Helipad! That’s not worrisome?”

“When was this? Tony why didn’t you tell anyone!” Steve then turned on her. “Natasha is this why you were trying to suffocate yourself last night?”

“ _Hypocrite…_ ” Tony muttered under his breath, earning himself a glare.

“Do you know how ballerinas are trained?”

“Nat…” Clint sounded like he’d been shot. “Nat please. Not this…”

“Ballerinas are chained up by their ankles. The weak plead to be let down, but the weak ones don’t come back. The strong? The strong ones, they wait patiently for death. _That’s_ how ballerinas are made.”

“And you're one... One of twenty eight ballerinas with the Bolshoi. Right?”

Natasha looked at Barnes like she was seeing him for the first time. “I’m one of twenty eight-”

“No.” Barnes looked like he’d tasted something sour, eyes so very, very sad. “No, Natalia. You’re one of twenty eight black widow agents with the red room. Not a балерина.”

Natasha’s eyes seemed to lose focus. “I’m one of twenty eight ballerinas with the Bolshoi. The training is hard, but the glory of the soviet culture, and the warmth of my parents… My parents…. No- no that isn’t right.” She shook her head. “No- not-”

“The red room Natalia. The red room. Not балерина... No балерин.”

When her eyes opened once more, they were blank, absolutely no emotion on her face. “I am one of the twenty eight Black Widow agents with the Red Room. The glory of the Soviet supremacy is the goal.”

“Nat?” Wanda put her hand on Natasha’s shoulder, closing her eyes, before gasping and jerking back.

“What is it?”

“She’s been wiped.” Barnes’ voice was rough. “I found her trigger word. балерин.”

Natasha looked at him. “Ready. Instruction?”

Tony looked at Wanda. “Can you fix this?”

“I- I don’t- I’ve never seen anything like it! She’s- her brain is just a mass of pain and grief!”

Cold green eyes scanned the table, before she was standing. “Mission accepted from last briefing. Target… Found.”

Her eyes locked on Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> балерин- Ballerinas  
> балеринa- Ballerina  
> Since Natasha's whole personality is centered around this fabricated lie, that one word in her native language, unravels it all.  
> Wow! What a trip!  
> Thanks to Writerwisegirl for pushing me out the mindset of wanting to take a break and take forever on this next chapter. You're amazing!  
> <3


	8. Memories of the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Natasha is referred to as Natalia for the purposes of... it not being Natasha.  
> So if that's confusing... ignore it.  
> But yeah, she's brainwashed.  
> Fun times.

Natalia was over the table and knocking Tony off his chair before anyone could move. 

As her hand went back to draw out her knife, however, Steve grabbed her arm and pulled her off Tony. “Natasha!”

She growled, kicking him in the ribs and the sound of something cracking echoed throughout the room, Steve hissing and letting go of her. 

Barnes stepped in front of her path, holding up his hands. “Natalia. Stop.”

She stopped short, eyes assessing him. 

“You have a test.” His eyes darted around the room, looking for something. “You have to convince the people in this room you are an asset worth keeping.”

She considered this, eyes dancing around the room, before landing back on the man’s face. Relaxing her stance, she slowly padded over to the man, brushing her hand over his face light enough to make him shiver. “ _Soldier_... I haven’t seen you in such a long time and the first thing you do is to ask for _another_ night? Selfish.”

A ruddy blush colored the man’s cheeks. 

“I would oblige… if you _were_ the Soldier.” She curled a hand around his throat and stabbed him with her other, before pushing him aside.

A blur surrounded her and when she blinked, she found her hands were taped together, knife on the floor. She was pushed into a chair, legs taped down as well. 

Footsteps approached her slowly and a man with blonde hair and steel blue eyes sat down in front of her. “Did you really sleep with Barnes?”

She smiled. “And wouldn’t  _ you  _ like to know Clint Barton?”

A man with dark skin frowned at her. “That’s creepy.”

Natalia smiled. “Not really. I’ve been waiting, under all the suppression, all the  _ emotions _ . Waiting to be activated... I know everyone in this room.”

The man, Sam, looked at Steve, who was kneeling over Barnes. “Goes to show you’re not as weak as you look though… The nightmares you had the other day, were they about the ‘Red Room’ or whatever it is?”

She snorted. “Those nightmares were of all you fools.”

Clint snapped his fingers. “Hey. Natalia. Focus. I need you to focus on Natasha, the person _I_ know.”

Natalia smirked. “She’s gone. Leave a message?”

Narrowing his eyes, he pulled a small object out of his pocket, tossing it onto her lap.

A ring. Dull silver with small plastic gems.

Blinking as a headache cut through her brain, she blinked. “Clint? Why-” Eyes looked over at Barnes and Steve. “Did I? Clint you have to-”

She blinked again, face scrunching up as another headache made her grit her teeth, trying to muffle a scream.

Blank eyes looked back up after a second. “Nice try Clint Barton. You are persistent. I’ll give you that, but I know you and you aren’t any match for me.”

“Maybe i’m not, but I know someone who is.” He nodded to Tony, who was across the room, looking at Natasha warily. “Call the princess.” 

 

The team watched as Shuri hooked up Natasha to a machine, Barnes and Steve helping control the thrashing woman. 

And with a flip of a switch, Natasha went limp.

Shuri sighed, looking at a colored map of Natasha's brain. “This is going to take a while. Possibly longer than Sergeant Barnes.”

The whole team seemed to absorb that, all finally realizing just how bad the situation was.

 

Memories played out on a large screen as Shuri fired off tiny electric shocks to stimulate different paths in Natasha’s brain, Natasha’s open eyes watching the memories. The whole process was supposed to distance her from the memories, but the team was horrified.

The first memory was of a dimly light room and the line of sight passed over the rows of small military-like cots with girls on them, then traveled up to where a skinny arm was handcuffed to the bed. The woman that would come in was cruel and would feed the girls little, if nothing.

Tony had sent Peter and the twins out, leaving himself halfway into the second memory.

Shuri herself left with Tony, telling the others to get her if something went wrong.

Chained up in a room, the girl struggled against chains on her ankles as the room slowly filled with water. And when she was close to drowning, the room emptied, only to start to fill when she’d caught her breath. It only stopped when the girl finally figured out how to break the locks. 

Then the chains were replaced with harder, more intricate padlocks and heavier chains.

Girls fought each other, killing to earn meals and extra sleep.

Men were brought in, the girls taught how to use their bodies as a weapon, how to distance themselves from emotion, pain.

Sam dragged Steve out to go run at that point, both their faces looking a little sick.  Bruce left after them without a word, face a different shade of green, and fists clenched at his sides.

The red-haired girl was hung from the ceiling upside down until she blacked out, beaten to bleeding, tortured in ways that seemed to come right out of nightmares.

And then a man was introduced. A man with dark eyes and wild hair. They called him 'Soldier' or 'Asset'.

Clint and Barnes glanced at each other, neither saying a word.

Somewhere along the way of the man beating up the red-haired woman that looked to be in her early twenties, a connection grew, and both men watched as the two danced around each other. 

And then both were looking away from the screen, cheeks stained red as they both blocked out the sex noises that filled the room.

But something happened once the scene changed and the girl was alone again, back to training.

“So… You did sleep with her.”

Dark eyes found steel blue ones. “Clearly.”

Clint scowled. “Then why didn’t she like you? Because she had the worst nightmares when she dragged you out from wherever the hell you came… she couldn’t sleep half the time the nightmares were so bad.”

The man shrugged. “Maybe she associated it with her time in the Red Room.”

They stared each other down, before both turning back to the screen.

The woman with the red hair was getting beaten more often, purposefully losing her fights, but they watched as she was strapped down to an examination table anyway. 

Pumped full of chemicals.

Then the scalpel came out.

Clint rushed to the back of the room, curling over a trash can, throwing up his former dinner. Barnes looked sick, but didn’t move. “They…”

“She told me about it.” Clint muttered. “I knew, but-” He gagged again. “That was not what she said. That was worse. Way, _way_ worse.”

 

The team sat around the large table, all picking at the Chinese food.

“She knew you? Right?” Steve looked at Barnes, who nodded.

“Do you remember when that was? I mean if the stuff they put in her was anything like what they did to- to us...”

Barnes seemed to consider this. “I- I don’t-”

“Her birthday?”

The whole table looked at Peter, who was swamped in what looked to be Natasha’s sweater. 

“Aunt May told me that she was born in 1928. In October I think. Tasha says that Halloween’s her favorite holiday, that the weather reminds her of home.”

“19- 1928?” Tony sounds strangled. “She’d be- She’d be like 90!”

Steve looked shocked. “That’s ten years younger on Bucky and I… Does that mean we’re gonna stay like her, aging slowly?”

Barnes bumped shoulders with Steve. “You have me and Natasha. You’re stuck with us.”

The try for humor seemed to go united.

“She’s worse than you were Buck. How bad did they mess her up?”

Clint smiled grimly at the super soldier. “Badly. They took every part of humanity she had away from her. Made her a tool.”

The whole table was grimly silent.

“We don't deserve her.” Pietro was still, unlike his usual hyper self.

“No, we don’t.” Wanda pulled her brother closer. “But we can try. Try to earn her trust, to give her the home she deserves.”


	9. Death Glares

Natasha blinked up at the white tile ceiling of the gym.

_ Why was she here? _

Lowering her eyes a little, she saw what seemed to be a bad movie playing out on a screen… except that room looked familiar…

Something tingled her brain, like a tiny pulse, and she reached up to her head, hand touching tiny little  _ things  _ attached to her head.

“You’re awake! That’s good, great actually.” A small girl scrambled over, a large smile on her face. “I’m Shuri by the way. How’s the brain?”

Natasha blinked, tilting her head. “Do you know Peter?”

The girl’s smile turned to a grin. “Oh yeah. That little meme’s my partner in planning world domination.”

“Great…” Natasha looked around. “Can I ask why i’m strapped down?”

“You reverted. Went off the deep end. Full-on psycho. Sergeant Barnes’ stupid habit of slipping into Russian really kicked him in the ass this time.” The girl’s laugh was almost fond. “Idiot.” 

“Did I hurt anyone?”

The girl paused in her working, looking at Natasha seriously. “If you did… what would you do?”

“Well for starters I would know who needs to avoid me, who needs me to apologize, and who just needs hot chocolate waiting for them when they wake up.”

“You broke three of Steve’s ribs, embarrassed Barnes, and tried to kill Tony.”

Natasha tilted her head. “I embarrassed the man made of ice? How’d that happen?” She thought back, of when- “Oh…”

Shuri smiled all too sweetly. “Peter and Tony are convinced that you two are a match ‘made in Russia’. Tony’s even started calling Barnes ‘Russia’s Greatest Love Machine’...”

Natasha pulled the electrodes off her head, standing shakily. “Well, there we go. Avoid Barnes, apologize to Steve, and leave poisoned hot chocolate on Tony’s bedside table.” She grinned at Shuri. “He always drinks the hot chocolate left by his bed. Bad habit really.”

The girl just laughed. “He deserves it.”

 

Natasha and Shuri talked as they made their way to the kitchen, Natasha ignoring the stairs of the others as she walked to the coffee machine, pressing a button before leaning against the counter. “So you’re the Princess? That’s cool. I bet it’s fun living with T’challa. He seems like a real serious type.”

Shuri snorted. “He’s a total nerd.” She jumped up on the counter next to Nat, pulling out her phone. “Look at this.”

Natasha watched the king hit a black panther suit, look at the camera suspiciously, before hitting it again. He went flying, laughter heard off screen. Natasha’s mouth feel open, and upon watching it again, chuckled. After another time through the video, her laughing grew more until she was doubled over, out of breath. 

“What’re we laughing at?” Peter sidled up next to them, grinning when he saw the video. “Oh I love this part! Look at his eyes when he goes flying!”

Natasha caught her breath grabbing the coffee from the machine. “That’s the best thing I've seen in a while, and I follow Peter on twitter.” She pushed the coffee in front of Clint, who was half asleep at the counter.

Peter frowned at her as she made another cup of coffee. “Hey! What about that video the other week of Flash tripping down the stairs?”

Natasha smiled at the boy, opening the top cabinet, squirting a bit of chocolate sauce in the coffee and depositing the cup in front of Tony with a spoon. “No no. You’re right. That was hilarious.” 

She was about to make a third cup when a voice stopped her. 

“What’s this?”

Natasha looked back at Tony. “Coffee.”

“And why are you making coffee for everyone?”

She frowned, glancing at Peter for back up. “Do you not like it?”

Tony looked bewildered. “It has… chocolate in it.” 

Peter lept forward, grabbing the coffee from Tony’s hands. “Thanks for the coffee. Just how I like it… You know May’s not here though, right?”

Natasha tapped her fingers on her legs, glancing at the mug she’d put down in front of Clint. “Right. Sorry. Food?” She started for the fridge.

Peter grabbed her hands. “Nat. Natasha it’s two in the afternoon… I already had lunch.”

“Want me to start dinner?” Her voice was weak.

“What-”

Peter shook his head at Tony, before smiling back at Natasha. “Actually, I could go for a walk?”

Natasha seemed to relax. “Right... Afternoon.” She looked outside, frowning. “No, I think it’s too cold out… I’m going to go take a hot bath. I think my brain’s still kind of scrambled.” 

“Don’t fall asleep.” 

Messing up Peter’s hair, she smiled. “Not today.”

 

After a long bath, she instinctively migrated to the kitchen and upon checking her watch, opened the fridge. “Oh dear god.”

Making a face, Natasha pulled out a tupperware of moldy cheese.

“FRIDAY? Can you put on some music? I have a feeling this is going to take a while.”

She emptied out the fridge, keeping only the stuff that was good, throwing away the gross food that had been in there forever and setting aside the stuff she wanted to use. 

Natasha was dancing around the kitchen to Iggy Azalea’s ‘ _ Black Widow _ ’ when she spun around and came face to face with James Barnes, wide eyed and frozen in place.

“You’re… You’re up. Cooking.” The man sounded slightly strangled.

She nodded, backing up and then spinning to look at the stove. “Cooking… You want to try it?”

Barnes looked at her, stepping closer slowly. 

She held up the wooden spoon. “I swear on both my guns that it’s not poisoned.”

Trying a bit, the man’s eyes widened slightly. “Wow. That’s really good.”

Natasha smiled. “Thanks. I got into cooking when May started working day shifts. Surprisingly I only burnt a few things.” She chuckled. “Mostly because I wasn’t watching-”

She turned to look at the man, and finding him so close made her stop short. 

The look in the dark eyes was anything but friendly. She swallowed nervously.

“What smells so gOOD?... Fuck!” Clint’s voice cracked on the last part of his sentence as he slid into the kitchen in his socks, not stopping in time and crashing into a wall. 

Natasha stepped back, turning to her chili. “Clint, you’re an idiot.” And when she went to reach for the bowls, she saw that Barnes had moved back to the other side of the room.

 

Apparently the whole team liked the food so much that the chili was gone within the time she went to stand, wanting a second bowl. 

Peter grinned at her from where he was slumped in his seat. “There’s no more left. I ate like all of it. Four bowls… Nat your chili’s the best part of winter.”

She shook her head. “Did everyone get enough? I can make more…”

Tony groaned. “I want more but I already ate sooooo much.”

Surprisingly Bruce and Steve both shook their heads. “No I think everyone’s good.”

Natasha tried not to flinch as she met the dark eyes that were currently giving her a glare so harsh she could feel it trying to stab her from across the table. “Soldier. You get enough?” Trying to brush over the fact she’d just called him that, she pointed at his bowl. “You barely ate.”

The man then turned the glare to the bowl, like it had personally offended him.

Steve just chuckled. “It’s okay Nat. Buck probably got too much.”

Nodding slowly and trying not to notice the way Barnes looked at Steve incredulously, she poked Peter. “You know the rules.”

The boy groaned, getting up and mimicking her voice. “Rule number five…  _ Natasha cooks Peter helps clean _ . Ughhhh but i’m so full!”

Natasha pushed up her sleeves, gathering some of the plates and heading to the kitchen. “Come on Web-head. Or else I get to pick the music!”

Peter scowled, grabbing plates and balancing them in stacks on his arms. “No fair! You always pick sucky pop music!” He followed her hurriedly.

She laughed as Peter complained the whole time, trying not react as she felt a death glare on her, just going about cleaning.

 

So Barnes was making it his mission to kill her with his eyes or something. 

Every time she was around him, he would stare at her, eyes murderous.

She tried to bring it up with Steve, and the man had just laughed. “I’ll tell him to tone down the intensity.”

But when he walked into the gym and she was sitting on top of Clint, tickling him, she swore the man  _ growled _ .

And that one time that Tony made a sex joke after he sprayed her with whipped cream during their prank war, she’d rolled her eyes, eating the sugary substance anyway... only to excuse herself when the pencil Barnes was holding  _ splintered into  _ _pieces_.

It was like she couldn’t go anywhere without seeing the man’s death glare.

He just… hated her for some reason.

 

Natasha woke up, stretching, only to freeze when she rolled over. There was a glinting knife sitting on her bedside table, sharpened to the point she was afraid to even try to poke the edge. 

A note sat on the top, looping cursive spelling out the message:

**Don’t mention it.**

Shivering, Natasha shoved both items in her drawer, backing away from it.

Okay. So now it was to threatening.

 

A few days of trying to avoid Barnes and another item showed up, chocolates this time.

With the note:

**I want your heart more than anyone ever before.**

Her mind provided an image of that metal arm reaching up her ribs, pulling out her beating heart, blood dripping over his hand and she almost threw up.

With a vengeance, Natasha crushed the chocolates and left them on the counter of the main room, telling Clint not to let anyone eat them.

Thankfully the threats stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry... not sorry?  
> This was too much fun to write... so i'm not really sorry.


	10. Sleuthing and Other Assorted Spy-related activities

Natasha was out in the field, mind hazy from lack of sleep, when a super villain decided to put a bullet in her shoulder. 

She winced. “A little help? I’m down an arm.”

“Nat! What did I tell you about getting shot?” Clint’s voice whined over the coms. 

“Hawkeye! Keep it professional! Who’s closest to Widow?”

“I’m headed-” Pietro started.

A low growl cut him off. “She’s mine.” 

Natasha flashed back to a bridge, Winter Soldier holding a gun and her running like her life depended on it. But before she could move for cover, bullets were being fired.

Blinking, she found the guy that had shot her and all the minions close to her had been shot down. She looked to where the barrel of a sniper rifle was hidden, smiling tightly as she tried (for Steve’s sake) to be nice. “Thanks Soldier. I owe you one.”

“Yeah you do.” Was the gruff reply.

Natasha shivered and hightailed it out of the man’s line of sight just in case he decided he didn’t like her last second.

 

Natasha let Bruce sit her down, rolling her eyes at Clint who was pacing in front of her. 

“Shot!  _ Shot _ ! You’ve gone into a Russian mob house and come out with only a scratch! What happened!” 

Natasha didn’t answer, and when Bruce was having trouble getting to her wound she unzipped her suit, shrugging it off. “Come on Doc. It’s like you’ve never touched a woman before.” She winked at the man.

Bruce just rolled his eyes and she got a pillow thrown at her by Clint. 

“Hey! Talking here! Where's your brain Natasha? You’ve been out of it lately. Cooking all the time, coffee ready when people wake up, dinner ready at six on the dot? Not that any of us are complaining… but yesterday you were making apple pie and singing Adele! Adele, Natasha!  _ Adele _ !”

She tried to shrug, getting a glare from Bruce. “Routine. It helps me cope. I picked it up when I was living with Peter. I would make coffee in the mornings, have dinner ready at six. It was like… Like I had a family. A normal one. That lived in a house.”

Clint deflated slowly as she spoke, before sitting on the coffee table in front of her. “That’s depressingly…  _ normal  _ though.”

Natasha smiled at the man. “I went to parent-teacher conferences Clint. Helped Peter ask out MJ. Threatened a kid that was bullying him. I got to chaperone a school trip  for god's sake! ”

The whole team stared at her. 

“I never got that. Not being a kid, not being an adult. I’d never been into a public school, never got to cook a meal and welcome people home without a plan of how to kill them somewhere in my brain. I got to be a normal, boring human for two years… And I  _ liked  _ it.”

Bruce cleared his throat, voice soft. “Done.” He stepped back.

She poked at the newly stitched up wound. “I got to go on dates with May. We’d dress up and take Peter to a museum, hold hands the whole time. When she changed from night shifts to day shifts at the hospital I used to stay up and talk to her, dance in the living room when she couldn’t sleep. I got to pretend for two years like someone cared enough to actually like me for…  _ me _ not just because I have a good body or I can kill people.”

The room was silent.

“I think i’m going to stay with the Parker's tonight… I’ll be back tomorrow.”

 

Natasha swirled around the wine in her glass.

May sighed. “What’s wrong... I can see it one your face. Something’s bothering you.”

“Well there’s the part about how I wish somebody loved me... Or there’s the part about the vengeful shadow that I think wants to kill me. What do you want to start with?”

“Vengeful shadow?” May raised an eyebrow.

Natasha explained the whole situation, causing May to go into a fit of laughter.

“What! It’s not funny! He’s a menace!”

May took another long sip of wine. “He likes you. The gifts, the staring, he’s an admirer!” She snorted, doing a little dance. “Solved ‘em in one.”

“Stop it. Stop doing… that. He hates me. He taught me in the Red Room. Beat me up... He doesn't like me.” 

May finally stopped dancing, shrugging. “Okay. Whatever you say red-head.” 

The two still stayed up talking all night, Natasha curling around the woman as she fell asleep and holding out coffee in the morning.

May and Natasha saw Peter go, and the woman sat down. “Look… It’s not that I don’t love my time with you, but I don’t think this little charade of a relationship can last if we’re both still lonely. It might be time to just… stop.”

Natasha drained the rest of her coffee, eyeing the woman as she set the cup in the sink. “Let me know if you ever need a dancing partner.”

May smiled warmly. “And the same goes if you need someone to talk to.” 

 

Natasha could get over most of it like it was nothing, and yet, one thing just wouldn’t leave her alone.

Why would Barnes like  _ her  _ ?

The thing is, when Natasha told Wanda about the situation, she reacted almost exactly the same way. Except without the laughing, for the most part.

“Barnes is bad at… expressing things. He probably just likes you.”

Pietro nodded from where he was playing Mario effortlessly, fingers moving faster than the game could keep up with. “He is bad at emotions.”

“ _ Very _ bad.” Wanda agreed with her brother.

Natasha groaned. “He doesn’t like me! You two don’t understand, he was my teacher in the Red Room! He made me like this!”

Wanda fixed her with a blank stare, looking up from her knitting. “You have to remember he was just as much a tool then as you were. He probably didn’t know what he was doing.”

 

S o yeah, the twins were a lost cause.

Natasha knew better than to ask Steve (because that would be like asking the clock for directions to Starbucks. Clocks didn’t  _ work  _ that way... Plus they would probably just _ask_ the man in question and Natasha didn't want to be shot if May was wrong). 

Clint was heavily biased on the subject… He seemed to hiss at Barnes whenever the man even tried to get close to Natasha when the two of them were together, so she didn’t want to even hear his rant on this subject.

Bruce was a emotional dead zone and like he’d said before, he didn’t like to get involved with drama. He’d give Natasha that  _ look  _ again .

Peter was, well, a teenager. MJ had distracted him by _being in a dress_ , then asked him a question and the _idiot_ had said: “Oh yeah. Fruit Salad. I love that band…” Even though MJ had just asked him if he wanted fruit salad on his plate (Natasha got the story from both sides and it was hilarious).

And even though Thor was probably a good source of wisdom (if he felt like it, he was a minefield of long stories and bad advice some days), he was also off-world and Natasha didn’t feel like bothering Heimdall.

So she went to Tony. 

The genius.

He’d be able to help, right?

 

“Can’t help you, Natalie.” Tony’s voice drifted out from beneath the car he was working on. “It helps that I don’t have a good track record with long term relationships. Usually I don’t have to deal with stuff like this.”

“Tony.” Natasha pulled the rolling platform out from under the car, revealing the grease-stained man “Tony, you were in a relationship with Pepper for years. I just want to know why he hates me.”

“My opinion?” She nodded and the man snorted. “Well, my opinion is he stares at your ass to much to _not_ like you, even a little. I know that. Trust me, I’m an expert.” He slid back under the car.

“Great. So much help.” She turned.

“You should bring May to the gala!”

Natasha frowned, looking back. “What gala?

Tony slid out, grinning at her. “The one that i’m having Pepper set up as soon as I tighten this bolt... Bringing another person would piss off any overprotective guy and I’m pretty sure Snowflake is overprotective if his display when you got shot is anything.”

She nodded slowly. “Yeah okay. May said that I should take her dancing again…”

 

May threw her arms up. “I never said that!”

“Yes you did. You were drunk but don’t worry, I remembered.” Natasha smiled sweetly.

“Oh really?” May raised an eyebrow. 

“Well, no not really...-but you can wear a fancy dress! And there’ll be live music if I know Tony... And food!” She poured May a glass of wine. “Please May? For me?”

May sighed and they both heard the door open. “Oh how can I say no my  _ darling  _ girlfriend?”

Natasha stared at May. “Eww. Save it for the gala.”

Peter laughed, trudging up the steps. “I can’t wait to see it. Natasha? Be nice to someone? Not possible. I swear it on my morning coffee with two squirts of chocolate sauce.” 

Natasha threw a pillow at the kid. “Hey. That’s highly classified!”

Peter snorted and Natasha ended up chasing the kid around the apartment in a very one-sided tickle fight. When Peter was out of breath she leaned back, smiling. 

“How- how‘re you not-”

“Ticklish? The red room torture it out of me.” At Peter’s immediate frown, Natasha grimaced. “Too soon?”

“I think  _ never  _ is too soon.”

Natasha rolled her eyes.


	11. Everything's on Fire... But It's Fine. Absolutely Fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAOS  
> So, y'know that trope where miscommunication is used to just... fuck people over?  
> Yeah.  
> Fun times.  
> Comment with all your rage at how dumb these two are! Tell me how much you hate this!

May was a bundle of anxious energy the whole way to the gala, Peter talking in the back with MJ quietly (for once). “What if he tries to murder me? Natasha I didn’t realize I’d be taunting an assassin when I signed up for this!”

Natasha pulled up to the red carpet. “I’m guessing that you didn’t realize that there’d be paparazzi either.”

May paled. 

“May, you’ll be fine. I’ll fight him off if he tries to attack you and the paparazzi won't bother you because they’re too stubborn to believe I could date a woman.” Natasha slid out, walking around to the other side and opening the door, just a little. “You ready?”

With a deep inhale, May nodded, letting herself be guided out of the car.

Peter and MJ slid out of the back, in matching suits with tiny earpieces because they thought it would be funny to act like bodyguards. Plus Natasha had gotten to give them tips on moving intimidatingly, so the crowd seemed to shy from them. But she caught the grins they sent each other.

May hooked arms with Natasha and they strolled slowly down the carpet. “This is unbelievably stressful. I’m going to look like the worst date.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, leaning closer to May so she could speak just between them. “Remember. If you can learn how to stop a stab wound patient from bleeding out in your kitchen, taking directions from the patient themselves, you can do anything.”

May lost a little of her tension. “God you’re an idiot.”

“And remember when I was really mad about Peter getting injured that I accidentally called him a ‘clumsy dildo’... and then you tried to explain what that meant even though he already knew?”

May and her passed back and forth silly memories until they were both relaxed, approaching the doors to the gala. The doors got opened by their 'bodyguards' (with a wink of course) and then they were gliding into the building.

Tony Stark had outdone himself yet again. 

The vaulted ceilings had thousand of tiny candles hanging from it (that she suspected were at least somewhat mechanical), the room seeming to shimmer in the flickering glow. 

There was a short dinner, with a greeting from Tony himself in a dark blue suit, and then the audience watched in awe as the tables folded themselves away, some moving to the side, and the candles grew in light. 

Soft music started up, Natasha smiling at May, who rolled her eyes. “Come on then. The faster I can get murdered by a jealous super soldier, the better.”

Natasha laughed, leading May out into the clearing. “That’s my line...” She then slowly led May into a simple waltz, noticing the room spreading out to watch, a few people joining them.

The hidden com unit in her ear turned on and May missed a step in surprise. “Tin Can is watching you and talking to Pepper in hushed tones, but Captain Underpants and Grumpy Cat don’t seem to be here yet.”

May chuckled, Natasha muttering: “Thanks MJ. Love the nicknames.”

“Can we dance? We’d be in a better position to see them. And wouldn’t have to talk to people.” Peter sounded bored.

“Yeah. Why don’t you two just have fun. Don’t worry about us.” May shot a smile to where the two were standing, and both teenagers grinned.

“Hey, no making trouble kiddos.” Natasha warned.

Both teens looked at her from across the room. “What counts as… trouble?”

“You can mess with Clint, but only because Wanda and Pietro are already doing that. No messing with the guests… Go raid the chocolate fountain or something.” Natasha immediately regretted saying anything, because both teenagers were racing each other to the chocolate fountain, sliding in their dress shoes.

May chuckled. “Want a drink?”

“Want? I’m starting to think I  _ need  _ one.”

 

Natasha was at the bar, talking with Pepper and Tony when her com started up unexpectedly, making May jump. 

“HeY! Nat!  _ Turn around _ !”

Trusting the blind judgement of Peter Parker (which admittedly was a bad idea), she smiled at Tony, turning around. She crashed into someone and almost fell, but a metal arm shot out, stabilizing her. “Whoa there sweetheart.”

She stilled, looking up into the face of the one and only James Barnes.

Standing tall, in a dark suit with his hair pulled back into a small bun and clean shaven, James Barnes looked almost… handsome. His eyes were widened in surprise and she watched his adam's apple bob as he swallowed, face making a grimace of a smile. “You better watch where you'r goin’. Might bump int’a someone you don’t like.”

Natasha stood back up, steadying herself. “Sorry about that James. Im kinda clumsy tonight... I blame the new heels.” She followed his eyes as they fell down onto the red heels that strapped around her calves.

And… there is was. The murder glare. “That’s a hell of a shoe.”

Natasha was about to answer, but a warm hand on her arm made her realize why she was here. May smiled at her worriedly. “Hey love. You okay?”

Natasha softened her face, giving May a shining smile. “Just a little clumsy. Sorry for worrying you darling.”

Barnes’ face went flat and he cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Sorry ladies. Excuse me.”

When he was far enough away talking to Steve, who was in uniform, May grinned at her. “Oh he’s  _ so  _ jealous.”

“He’s polite to a fault. He shares the same floor as Steve, you can’t blame him for catching me when  _ someone  _ caused me to fall right on him!”

There was a muttered “Oops” from the com unit, but it didn't sound all that sorry.

Natasha shook her head. “This was a waste of time. Let’s just have a few drinks, dance a few times, and then get out of here. My brain’s starting to think that _ I  _ like  _ him _ , and that’s not a road I want to go down.” 

May sighed, but obliged, and they were both drunk by the time Peter and MJ dragged them out the door.

 

Natasha came back to the tower late into the next morning, dark sunglasses covering her eyes. Clint made a face at her. “Have too much fun drinking with your girlfriend?”

“Not my girlfriend.” Natasha groaned, collapsing on a bar stool.

“She’s not?” 

Natasha looked up at Steve, who was making what smelled like eggs, and mentally screamed. “Well, uh- we uh- broke up. May and I broke up.”

Steve frowned. “Why’s that?”

Natasha threw up her arms. “We both decided that the sex was lacking, okay?” To anyone else, the scene would look like a woman being upset over her breakup, but Clint snickered from beside her.

“You? Lacking in bed? That's priceless.”

She turned to glare at the man from beside her shades. “Oh shut up. Women are harder to pleasure than men by a million  _ years _ . Plus I bet I can still please a woman better than  _ you  _ can.”

“Take that back!” Clint gasped, mock offended. 

Steve snorted. "Well, if it helps, I'm sorry about your break up."

Clint winked. “Hey if you need a rebound guy…”

Natasha huffed. “Clint, you already know i’m going to end up in your bed, so what’s the point of offering?”

Someone hit the side of something, a low curse being muttered, and Clint winked as Barnes wandered into the kitchen looking dejected. Clint swallowed like half his coffee, but the stupid grin still stuck to his face. “Good morning!”

“What’s so goddamn  _ good  _ about it?” Was Barnes’ muttered answer.

Steve handed the man a plate of eggs, the look on his face pinched. “Natasha and May broke up.” Barnes’ eyes widened a bit. “Clint’s apparently the go-to rebound guy.”

“Hell yeah I am!”

Natasha sighed, letting her head rest on the table. “Be quiet bird-brain. I’m trying  _ not  _ to have my brain turn to mush and leak out my ears.”

Clint smiled, pushing his coffee her way. “Awww you’re so cute when you’re angry. Like a little kitty!”

She sat back up slowly, narrowing her eyes at him and drinking the coffee.

Tony waltzed in. “How was the  _ lovely  _ night Natasha?”

Steve chuckled. “You missed it. Apparently Natasha’s better at pleasing a woman than Clint, she broke up with May because the sex was lacking, and now Clint’s the rebound guy.”

Tony whistled lowly, before grinning at Natasha. _Apparently this whole mess was really funny for some reason_. “You work fast Red.” 

She snorted. “Even  _ I _ don’t know how I do it.”

Chuckling, Tony winked at her. “Hey. If you ever need a different bed to sleep in…”

Natasha glared at Clint. “I might have to take you up on that. Clint’s annoying me, plus your sheets really are the best .”

Steve seemed to catch on to the whole joke, smiling at Natasha. “And you know my bed’s always open.”

Pietro and Wanda wandered in, the speedster stealing Clint’s coffee. “Oh, we offering up company for the night? Because you know, Wanda makes the softest quilts.”

At this point, Barnes looked like he was going to have an aneurysm, storming out of the kitchen, muttering under his breath. 

Clint and Tony snickered.

Steve fixed her with a piercing look. “So… wanna tell me what this is about?”

 

Steve sighed heavily after Natasha explained the whole series of events. “You’re in a real pickle.”

Clint chuckled. “That’s one way of saying it.”

Natasha looked at him incredulously. “And how did  _ you  _ know about all this?”

“Pietro wouldn’t shut up about it during Mario Kart.”

She glared at the speedster, before turning back to Steve. “What do I do?”

“If I know Buck, he’ll come and tell you what he feels sooner or later. Why don’t you just find a place to sleep and settle down for the long haul.”

“Whatever. I’m gonna go find Sam.”

Clint threw one of his sugar packets at her. “He’s sick just so you know...” 

She shrugged, walking out. “Good. Maybe then i’ll have an excuse not to deal with all of you!”

 

Natasha wrapped herself in her comfiest sweatpants and tank top, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. She heard voices, knocking on Sam’s door softly. “Hey Flyboy? You in?” After a second with no response,  she opened the door slowly. “Sam?”

Sitting on Sam’s bed, with Sam’s hand on his thigh, was _James_ fucking _Barnes_.

“Nat! Hey!” Sam smiled up at her, but it seemed slightly nervous.

Natasha smiled awkwardly. “Sorry- I- I’ll go.” She shut the door behind her, rushing to the elevator and slumping against the wall as the doors closed.

Sam and Barnes. 

Huh.

Well, she wasn’t expecting that.

 

Steve found her floating in the pool fully clothed, staring at the ceiling. “Natasha?”

Natasha blinked, letting her feet sink so she was standing. “Hey..... what’d it feel like when Peggy died?”

Steve sat in a chair by the edge of the pool heavily. “Like I was submerged in the ice again.”

Nodding slowly, she waded to the edge. “Why does it feel like there’s an empty hole in my chest? I mean, Barnes and I…” She shook her head. “Never mind. Doesn’t matter. I’m happy for Sam and Barnes. They’ll be good for each other.”

Steve looked a little lost for a second, before smiling. “Right! Sam and- and Bucky...”

Natasha pulled herself out of the pool, shivering worse in the cold air. “You think I could borrow some clothes?”

“Yeah. I have some in my locker.”

“And stay the night?” Natasha looked at Steve tiredly. “All joking aside I sleep best when i’m around someone else… I used to room with Clint, and at the Parker’s house I would sleep either with May or in the lower bunk in Peter’s room. So I’m kinda used to not sleeping alone and my room here is just kind of...”

“Off?” Steve handed her a shirt and a pair of sweats. “Yeah. I was kind of messed up when I got to the Tower too. Couldn’t sleep on the bed for a good year. You’re more than welcome in my room whenever.”

“Thanks.” She started shucking her wet clothes, smiling when the man turned his back.

 

Natasha followed Steve to the elevator and they were talking about art styles when the elevator doors slid open. 

A man immediately jumped right at Steve. 

“Thank god, Stevie! I think Natalia saw me and-” Dark eyes looked to where Natasha was standing, swamped in clothes that obviously didn’t fit her. 

Smiling tightly, she pushed past Barnes. “I need coffee and some sleep. I’ll be in your room Cap.”

“What the hell Steve? Why is she-” Natasha stalked to Steve’s room, closing the door behind her and cutting off the aggravated voices.

She made a mental checklist:

  1. Barnes didn’t like her
  2. Sam and Barnes were together
  3. Barnes also didn’t want her anywhere near Steve
  4. She had taken a liking to Barnes' face
  5. She was ultimately screwed



Sighing, Natasha flopped down into Steve’s bed, pulling the covers over her head. “I hate _everything_.”


	12. Party Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some angst, but good things to come, I swear.

Natasha was half-asleep when the arguing died out, Steve slamming the door behind him so hard she heard it creek. 

She pried an eye open. “Tony won’t like it if he has to buy another door...”

Steve huffed, stepping into the bathroom and splashing water on his face. “Jerk... He said I wasn’t anything like he remembered. That the serum had changed me, made me more of a idiot.”

Natasha moved so she was propped up against the headboard. “He’s upset. He doesn’t really mean it. Plus if it makes any difference, the serum did change you.”

Steve looked at her.

“It empowered you to make a difference. You’re a little hard-headed sometimes, but then again, who isn’t?” She yawned, eyes drooping.

“Yeah…” Steve sighed. “I think you need a nap. You look pretty tried...”

She opened her eyes just enough to peer at him, holding her blanket open in invitation. “Come on. Let the spider give you hugs. I promise not to eat you while you sleep.”

“Reassuring.”

“Mmmm.” She hummed, yawning again.

The bed dipped. “Go to sleep Natasha. I got you.” Large arms moved her so she was wrapped in warmth, the large arm curled around her stomach like a weight, pulling her into sleep.

 

Cold.

Cold, like Russian winters.

Russian winters and scalpels cutting into her, anesthetic carefully forgotten. 

Oh, her blood was full of chemicals, but pain relief was the farthest thing from what the chemicals  _ could  _ do.

She jolted awake, cold seeping into her bones. 

Her breath came out short and a large warm hand was instantly on her back. “Natasha? Nat, you have to breath. In, out, in, out...”

Taking the instructions, Natasha blinked the spots from her eyes. “Sam?”

The man smiled. “Hey Nat. Just making the rounds, getting the boys up for a run.” His eyes looked concerned. “Hey you alright? Steve just went to go to the restroom… and you woke up practically screaming.”

Natasha looked around, eyes moving past the closed bathroom door, to Barnes watching her from the hall. She shook her head, grabbing her blanket and sliding out of bed. “I’ll be okay. Clint’s still asleep, so I’ll go find him.”

“Nat-”

“Stop it.” Her eyes narrowed on Sam. “Stop worrying about me. Stop it. Go force your PTSD diagnosis on your  _ boyfriend _ . He needs it more.” 

Then without another word, she was slamming her way into the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time until she got to Clint’s floor.

 

The man was still mostly asleep, but still cracked his eyes open out of habit. “N-tsha?”

She slid under the covers, burying her face into the man’s chest. “Why can’t I ever pull the fucking trigger? Jump off the edge? I just-” She hid her tears in his skin, under the covers, hidden from the outside world. 

That was the only place she knew where to put them.

Clint slowly seemed to wake up slowly, hands lazily threading through her hair. “Tasha you have to come find me. I’m proud you came to me this time, but you need to come talk when you feel like this.”

She dug her nails into his back, but he didn’t say a single complaint. “I hate him! There’s always something wrong with me, I’m not fixable! His fucking breathing techniques don’t fucking work, medicine makes me tired, and I don’t _want_ to talk to someone. I just- I- I don’t know Clint. I don’t know anymore.”

“Shhhh. You’re Aunt Natalie, here to cook dinner and save us from Tony without coffee. You make hot chocolate, scold people who get hurt, and go on field trips with Peter to the zoo. You make the team feel at home... Remember when we first got here, how Steve wouldn’t stop getting offended with Tony’s constant use of movie references because he thought the idiot was making fun of him?”

Natasha nodded slightly.

“You sat Steve down for like six full days, Fury be damned, and watched every movie you could think of. Stark basically _bought_ Starbucks they were delivering coffee so often. The team loved it and Steve totally needed it.”

Her grip on him loosened, until it was closer to a hug. “I’m sorry for being such a handful.”

Clint Barton, everyone’s older brother, just smiled down at her. “That’s why I adopted you. So you could be  _ my  _ handful.”

“Shut up. That was forever ago.”

The smiled turned into a wide grin. “Nope. The certificate’s in your hoard. I know it… Does that mean I can walk you down the aisle?”

“I’m older than you.”

“So? At the time you looked seventeen and Fury said you need a guardian! And I’m a very proud guardian! You know I loveeeeee you.” 

She snorted. “I’m burning that certificate when I get around to it.”

“You  _ wouldn’t _ !”

Natasha grinned against Clint’s chest. They both knew she wouldn’t, but it was fun to tease. “Go back to sleep. If I see another human being today i’ll shoot them.”

Clint chuckled slightly, pulling the covers farther up. “Yes ma’am.”

 

She stirred slightly when Clint moved, but a body replaced him, warm and familiar.

“Cl’nt?”

Wanda smoothed a hand over her hair, the rhythmic sound of knitting needles starting up. Her voice was soft, a whisper. “Clint’s off charging into battle for his little sister. He looked ready to crucify Sam and Barnes.”

“Not younger. ‘M older.”

“Sure Nat… But to Clint you’ll always be his little sister.”

Natasha mover closer to the witch’s legs, laying her head on her lap. “I’ll watch him die.”

Wanda smoothed a hand over her hair. “It's okay любимый. Live in the present. The future will always be there in the end, patient and yet surprisingly caring. You’ll have more time with him than without and that in itself is a blessing.” 

Natasha was going to say something, but the combination of soft humming and the steady click-click-click of knitting needles lulled her back to sleep.

 

Natasha pulled herself out of bed at dinner, joining the team for takeout, smiling when Tony whined that the stir-fry wasn’t nearly as good as hers. 

Sam, Barnes, and (surprisingly) Steve all looked surprisingly guilty, but Clint’s glare kept them away. 

“We have a surprise for you tonight, and then the Parker’s are coming over tomorrow.” Wanda’s smile was huge.

Natasha narrowed her eyes. “Surprise?”

Thunder boomed outside, the doors slamming open.  “Happy day of birth Lady Natasha!” Thor strode in, a huge smile on his face.

A slim man trailed behind the thunder god. “Yes. Happy _birthday_.”

Clint narrowed his eyes. “Loki? Thor! When you said another person I thought you meant Jane! Not _him_!”

“He’s reformed! A new man one would say!” Thor’s smile wavered. “But if Natasha wishes him gone, then I will escort him back.”

Natasha looked over the slim man, shrugging. “Come on Loki. You get to give me my first present.” The man blinked as she pulled him into a hug.

“What are you doing?” Loki’s voice in her ear was hushed, but confused.

She hissed back the explanation. “If you don’t hug me, Clint will gut you before Thor can do a thing. Hug. Me.”

The man then put on a smile, wrapping his cold arms around her and spinning her in a circle. “Happy birthday!” He sat her back onto her feet, stepping back. “Wonderful! Let the party commence!”

Thor cheered, and the others looked skeptical, but all seemed to shrug it off.

Drinks were passed out, the group moving to lounge in a circle on the sofas and in the chairs. Natasha had on a plastic tiara Clint had stolen from a rodeo one time, sitting in a beanbag with the twins to one side, Clint himself to the other. 

“Never have I ever…” She made a face. “Gotten a tattoo.”

Clint put down a finger, along with Stark and… Loki?

Natasha grinned at Clint. “I know yours is on your ass. An arrowhead because you're an idiot.” She turned to Tony. “You probably got yours removed, but what was it?”

Tony grinned. “I was so drunk I got a tramp stamp. Obie threw a fit so I had it removed.”

The whole group laughed and Natasha turned to Loki. “And you… Are more interesting than I guessed. Do tell.”

Loki rolled his eyes, glancing at Thor as he pulled up his right pant leg, showing off a simple three swirls intersecting into one point. “For my mother.” Not looking at Thor, who stood abruptly and stormed to the balcony, Loki pushed his pant leg back down. “She was murdered... Still a touchy subject with Thor.”

Natasha cleared her throat, offering up a shaky smile that was genuine. “Blessed be Freya, wherever she rests.”

Loki’s eyes widened slightly, raising his drink, his voice thick with emotion. “Blessed be.”

They both downed their glasses.

Natasha elbowed Clint. “Go on. Your turn.”

Loki shot her an appreciative glance as Clint grinned. “Never have I ever faked an orgasm!” 

Steve turned slightly pink when Natasha grinned widely. “I think that counts as one finger, because if I put one down for the number of-”

“You’d be in the double negatives!” Clint chirped. “No no, one works.”

Wanda and her met eyes, both putting down a finger. 

Tony leaned forward. “Never have I ever dyed my hair.”

Natasha put down a finger, scowling. “This is an attack! I call it! You’re all teaming up to defeat me!” The room laughed as she slumped back into the bean bag, pouting. “Fine. Commence.”

Thor was in the kitchen raiding the pantry, so Loki smiled. “Never have I ever been in an orgy.”

Tony took a big swig of his drink, putting down a finger. “Too many.  _ Way  _ to many.”

Clint and Natasha looked at each other. “Italy?”

“Italy.” 

They both put down a finger.

Sam looked directly in Natasha’s eyes. “Never have I ever dated a man.”

Loki, Tony, Clint, Wanda, and Pietro all put down a finger. 

Natasha slowly lowered her finger, making a mental note to talk to the man later.

Barnes worried at his bottom lip, eyes on the floor. “Never have I ever… threatened someone with a  _ box of chocolates _ .”

Tony and Clint both put down fingers, but Natasha was too busy gaping to put down a finger. She stood, running a hand through her hair. “What- That’s a lie! You put a box of chocolates on by bedside table with some threat to rip out my heart!”

The man looked taken aback. “Rip out- I would never!”

Steve groaned. “You didn’t  _ actually  _ write that did you? The whole ‘I want your heart’ thing? That-” He trailed off, shoulders shaking with laughter.

“Shut up punk! I thought it was fine!  _ Sam  _ _said_ it was fine!”

Sam threw up his arms. “I thought that was a joke!”

“Wait. Hold up.” Natasha rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “So you mean to tell me that the chocolates I thought you’d poisoned were… not?” Barnes nodded at the ground, cheeks red. “So you _don’t_ hate me?”

Dark eyes looked at her, confused. “Why would I hate you Natalia?”

She turned to Clint. “Help me out here. I feel like i’m missing something.”

Clint’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Oh come on Tasha. You can’t have buried it _that_ far in your subconscious... He calls you Natalia? Responds like a dog when you call him Soldier? The reason behind your graduation present?”

Natasha shut her eyes, sifting through her memories. She spun around, eyes wide. “Holy fuck.... You- We-”

Barnes nodded. “Mhmm.”

“You want to… Again?” 

Barnes jumped up, meeting her in a kiss that had her toes tingling. “Hell yes.” 

He practically threw her over his shoulder, hurrying to the elevator.

 

The others watched the door close, Tony clearing his throat. “Anyone wanna tell me what I missed? Bird-brain?”

Clint shook his head. “They have history. Lots and  _ lots  _ of history.” 

Tony shook his head, pouring himself a shot.

Clint sighed, standing. “I’m gonna need to get drunk so that I can forget that my sister just got carried away by the same man that tried to kill her like sixteen times.” He eyed Loki. “You wanna partake?”

Loki’s grin was wicked. “Lead on, mortal.”

“I hate you. Fucking psycho.” Clint glared at the god.

Said god smirked, pressing the button to the elevator. “Makes it more interesting.”

Tony choked on his shot, coughing. “What the fuck is happening? Will that work for me? Steve you wanna go get drunk together in my rooms?”

Steve turned bright red, turning for the stairs without answering. 

Sam slapped Tony’s shoulder. “Maybe in the future Stark. Give it some time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> любимый- Favorite/ dear/ darling
> 
> So that happened... What'd you think?   
> Clint and Loki?  
> Tony and Steve?  
> Natasha and happiness?


End file.
